


Waiting

by Everydaynerd



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff, percabeth, percabeth fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 03:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12312825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everydaynerd/pseuds/Everydaynerd
Summary: AU in which Annabeth is a med student shadowing a pediatrician at the local hospital during the night shift, Percy is a firefighter who refuses to be treated until he knows the 7 year old he brought out of a collapsing building is okay even though he has burns, breaks, and it's 4 am; in the waiting room, Percabeth cuteness ensues. possible two-shot





	Waiting

Annabeth finally takes a moment to catch her breath as she exits the ward and heads back to the lobby, Dr. Suarez asking her to pass a message as soon as the patient was stabilized. Punctured lung, first degree burns, shattered femur…that kid went through the ringer.

She’d been shadowing Dr. Suarez for almost a month now, the summer before med school. Being in the hospital every day had only reaffirmed her decision to become a doctor, and seeing days like today, where a little girl was saved by both the fire department and then the ER’s quick action, was incredibly motivating. 

Still, seeing defenseless kids so injured was still a new phenomenon that she was working on adjusting to, and just imagining what the girl was feeling prior to being sedated…it was a lot to take in.

Jin’s desk was empty, but within a second she spotted him across the room, having a conversation with someone waiting in the lobby that was gradually getting louder and louder. 

“If you would please just let us treat you, we’d be happy to update you on her condition—”

“Sir I understand what you’re saying but I am telling you I am not going anywhere until I know she’s okay, and nothing you can say will change that.”

“Jin, is everything alright?” Annabeth approached cautiously, then came to a halt as she locked eyes with the man he’d been arguing with.

By god I think my favorite color is green.

He was easily the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on—tan, broad shouldered, lithe build, and his eyes—his eyes, they were the most captivating shade of sea green.

She blinked, and surveyed again—still just as handsome, but she picked up on details she hadn’t the first run through; beneath the gorgeous eyes were dark bags, his arms were a patchwork of fresh burns and cuts, and his shirt was stained with soot and blood. While he hadn’t seemed antagonistic towards Jin, it was clear whoever this man was, he was incredibly weary, and he definitely needed medical attention.

“Hey, Annabeth,” Jin offered her a tired smile. He’d worked the night shift for as long as she’d been shadowing during it, and yet it seemed to her he was never truly adjusted to the nocturnal life. “We’re fine. I’m just trying to convince Mr. Jackson here it would be more productive to let us treat him than to sit here and wait for hours more.”

Without hesitation, Annabeth took the seat next to Adonis—that is, Mr. Jackson—and made eye contact with him again, reminding herself to get your shit together woman, you are twenty-two years old, that is about a decade too old to make a fool of yourself because of a pretty boy—man, rather, he has to be at least as old as me.

“So, Mr. Jackson, who exactly are you waiting on that’s worth sitting here in a world of pain?”  
He eyed her carefully, arms still crossed. “Who says I’m in a world of pain?”

“From what I’ve heard, most people with broken ribs and a fractured wrist don’t feel too great, but if that’s wrong I’m happy for you to correct me.” His eyes narrow, and confusion fills his face.

“And how, exactly, do you know that’s what’s wrong with me?”

 

“You're sitting straight as a board—hurts to twist when bone is poking your vital organs. And you’re incredibly uncomfortable—you look ready to jet at the first opportunity, one fist clenched, but your left one? Limp like moving it hurts more than the comfort is worth.” A corner of his mouth ticks upward, and she can feel him trying to decide between being impressed or irritated. “Look, Mr. Jackson—”

“Percy,” he cuts her off. “Just Percy. Mr. Jackson doesn’t feel like me at all. Makes me feel like I’m getting chewed out for flunking a sixth grade Latin test. Again,” he mumbles, with genuine frustration.

“Sorry, Percy then. Percy, you need to be treated, why is it so important that you be here?”

“I just have to know that she’s okay—please.” The desperation in his eyes is palpable, and she turns to Jin for more information.

“Percy here is a firefighter, came in with the girl that went in a couple hours ago. He was the one who pulled her out of the burning house as it was collapsing—a right hero, he was. Demanded to come in the ambulance with her, and hasn’t moved since we admitted her.”

“Wait,” Annabeth says, “you mean the girl that—“

“Her name is Sabaa,” Percy says, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall with exhaustion. 

Jin shakes his head, then gives Annabeth a look of exasperation. Try, he mouths at her with a gesture toward the firefighter before them, then heads back to his desk.

“Her parents were in the house too,” Percy mumbles, eyes still closed. “They—they didn’t make it. I’m not going to leave her alone here.”

Annabeth’s heart thumps—with joy, that there are still such wonderful humans around her, in this world, and with sorrow, for the little girl who’s going to wake up in a different life, for this man and whatever he’s seen or been through that’s left him so aware of what she’s going to feel, that’s left him so capable of hiding his pain that the people around him see only the blood and burns. By now she’s noticed his ankle looks like it’s probably sprained, as well, and yet here he sits, not a flicker of pain or wavering of opinion on his face.

“The girl—Sabaa—I was just with her,” Annabeth tells him hurriedly, feeling like an hour has passed in the ten seconds it’s taken her to process the situation. “The doctor I’m shadowing, he’s a pediatrician, the one checking in on her, and she’s okay. She’s going to be here for a little while, and she’s sedated because of the pain, but—she’s stable.”

Percy’s eyes snap open and lock on her. “She—you’re sure?”

“I swear it. I was supposed to leave an hour or two ago—I have work in the morning—but I couldn’t bear to go until I knew,” she explained, motioning with her hands a little more than was necessary as her nerves popped back up.

“Thank god.” He let out a deep breath, ad a tiny bit of the tension left his shoulders. “When I was getting her out…I really didn’t know if she’d make it.” His voice broke at the end of the sentence, but then a smile came over his face. “She’s okay, though. Thank god.”

“She is,” Annabeth promised, a small smile lighting up her face. “Now it’s your turn. If she wakes up and finds out you’re not okay I’ll probably have a seven year old biting my head off for not taking care of her knight in shining armor.”

“Knight in nonflammables,” he snorts. “Ripped ones, too, after the beams started tearing me up. Okay, Anna…” he trails off sheepishly, looking to her to repeat her name.

“Beth. Annabeth Chase.”

“Well, Annabeth Chase, I’ll be happy to let them treat me now as long as you go get some rest yourself. That man was kind enough to let me know that it’s almost four in the morning.”

“I think I can manage that,” she nodded, biting a lip at the sight of the grin that lit up his whole face—the man was pure sunshine. “It was really nice to meet you, Percy. Truly.”

“You too. If you ever were to want to meet again, for coffee, or—”

“Yes,” she cut him off, blushing instantaneously at how overly eager she sounded. “Sorry, um, I mean, it would be great to see you again, when we're not both sleep deprived, and you’re not injured, although I mean you won’t be fully healed for a while, but I mean once you’ve had some form of treatment, and—sorry,” she breathes. “I’m rambling. I don’t know where my head’s at.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he smiles. “Sometimes I open my mouth and I swear there must be nothing but seaweed in my brain, because nothing logical comes out.”

She laughs, and then rips off the bottom of a paper in her bag (a paper which she definitely needed but clearly a date with the hot firefighter takes precedence, you’re so good at this, Annabeth), scratching down her number and handing it to him. “If you were to want to hang out some time—preferably a time when you’re not choking down a grimace of pain. Call me.” Please call me, god, I need to know him.

“I will,” he assures her, then reaches out his good hand to squeeze hers as they both rise to her feet, him with a small grunt of pain. “I’m glad I met you, Annabeth.”

She turns to smile at him over her shoulder. “Me too, Seaweed Brain.”


End file.
